


Let it Snow

by Bofursunboundbraids



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Oral Sex, alcohol consumption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 17:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofursunboundbraids/pseuds/Bofursunboundbraids
Summary: “I hope you like it. It’s really all they had left, on such short notice, this close to Christmas.” Thorin pulled the key-card out of the slot and opened the door. Tapping the lights on, he stepped aside, allowing Bilbo to enter first.“I’m sure it’s fine, sweetheart. I...” Bilbo stopped, his words evaporating into the air.A monster snow storm hits, closing the freeways and making it impossible to get anywhere. Thorin has a plan for how he and Bilbo will survive a rough night, trapped in the city, unable to make it home.





	Let it Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gloomier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gloomier/gifts).



> This is my Happy Hobbit Holiday 2017 gift to Gloomier! I hope you like it!
> 
> A very Happy Holidays to you and everyone! Have a safe and merry holiday and I hope 2018 is good to us all!

_I hate people._

Thorin read the text and sighed, “Oh, my poor baby.”

“Bad news, Mr. Durin?” Ted the barkeep asked, shaking a martini for a lady at the other end of the bar. Before he could respond, Thorin’s phone buzzed again. This time there was only an extreme close-up picture of what appeared to be a large backpack on a very large person, from the eye-view of what was surely a very pissed-off Baggins.

“My hubby’s on his way here from the university and he’s stuck on the metro. He dislikes crowds on the best of days.” Thorin answered. This was shaping up to be far from the best of days. Thorin took a sip of his cosmo and looked out the hotel bar’s window at the mess outside. The snow had started around noon, light flurries of spun sugar that had sent everyone in the downtown fifteenth floor office to the windows, delighted by the wintry scene. By 1:00 the snowfall had increased, sticking to the ground, causing traffic to slow and around 2:00, the first accident on the freeway had been reported. He had immediately sent Bilbo a text, encouraging him to leave school early, but Bilbo had replied that he had a meeting with the department head after his last class and there was no way he’d cancel on account of a little snow.

By 3, the city streets were a riot of skidding cars and honking horns and the local news was reporting the freeways all but impassable. Most of Thorin’s people had left for the day with personal wishes from their boss to get home safely. The only person left was Celeste, his executive secretary who had a luxury condo only a few blocks over and insisted on being the last person out. With a plan in mind, Thorin had given her a list and the task of obtaining all of the items on it as soon as possible. An hour later she walked into his office, successful in her mission, all of the purchases having been forwarded to the hotel where she had earlier booked him a suite. With a hug and a kiss on the cheek, Thorin said goodnight, thanking her again and offering to see her home before walking the three blocks to the hotel where he was to spend the night with his One True Love.

Lifting his phone, Thorin took a picture of his pretty pink cocktail in a frosted martini glass. _Look what’s waiting for you_ he typed before pushing **send**. A minute or so later he got a response:

_That’s lovely! And will dinner be served? I’m starving!_

A naughty thought flitted through Thorin’s mind, involving a photo of his nethers and the words _Dinner is ready and waiting_ , but the last thing Bilbo needed to have pop up on his phone in the middle of a crowded train was a picture of his husband’s penis. Instead, he answered:

_They’re holding a table for us. Can’t wait to see you!_

Bilbo responded:

 _I can’t wait to be off this bloody train. Hopefully not much longer._ ♥ 

Not much longer.

Thorin laid his phone down, popped a couple house-roasted almonds in his mouth, and took a look around. The Oak Room was his favorite watering hole when he was downtown. Clad in paneling of the aforementioned wood and leather, it was classy and comfortable, the perfect place to meet friends and lovers. The holiday decorations were tastefully festive and in the corner, a man in a black suit was playing Christmas songs on a cherrywood grand piano...

♬Chestnuts roasting on an open fire♬

...his voice soft and smoky and all-together pleasant. A fire blazed merrily on the hearth.

The lounge wasn’t as crowded as it usually was at 4:30, most of the drinks-after-work crowd having left for their homes hours earlier. The people dotting the space, comfortably seated in the overstuffed armchairs, were mostly guests of the hotel and downtown dwellers not quite ready to face the ever-increasing inches of snow accumulating all over the city. Thorin crunched his almonds, grateful for this refuge from the elements and for having the means to weather the storm in such a setting. 

He was just about to lift his drink when he noticed a familiar puff-ball, of variegated blues and greens, attached to a hand-knitted hat he’d watched come to life last winter, come bouncing his way. Caramel curls popped out from under the brim, here and there, framing one of the most beautifully grumpy faces he’d ever seen. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight and he slid off his stool, his arms raising to embrace this poor man coming in from out of the cold.

The grump smiled wearily. 

“I’m so glad to see you,” Bilbo sighed dramatically as he was swallowed up in the embrace. “I never thought I’d make it.” He raised his face to a kiss.

“Oh, sweetheart, your poor face is frozen.” Thorin said, cupping chilled cheeks with his big, warm hands. Another kiss took the cold from Bilbo’s lips.

“This city comes to a bloody stand-still the second a snow flake sticks to the ground.” Bilbo huffed, still in the mood to complain. He pulled away, yanking off gloves that matched his hat. “People turn into pushy assholes and...” Bilbo stopped, seeing the pity on Thorin’s face. “I’m sorry, I’m just glad to be out of it. And before you say anything, yes, I should’ve left earlier, cancelled the meeting, bloody waste of time that was.“

Thorin motioned to gain the bartender’s attention, “Let’s get something warm in you.”

Bilbo draped his hunter-green woolen coat over the back of the stool and hoisted himself up on the seat. “There’s a few warm somethings I’d like in me right now.” He mumbled under his breath making Thorin grin.

“Good evening, Professor.” Ted greeted Bilbo, “What can I make you?”

Bilbo, true to form, ordered a magnificent concoction of Kahlua, Bailey’s, Grand Marnier, and hot chocolate, served in a clear mug and topped with whipped cream. The first sip was a revelation, the second sip a balm that all but wiped away the last bit of aggravation he had stored up in his body. He released a big sigh of relief and took another sip.

“I’m going to leave this up to you, love.” Thorin said, his hand taking its privileged place on Bilbo’s thigh. “We can have dinner in the restaurant...or...we can have it up in the room.”

Now, if Thorin knew anything at all about his husband he knew that one of his favorite things in the whole world was...

“Room service.” Bilbo breathed as he dipped his hand into the freshly refilled bowl of almonds.

“Perfect.” Thorin squeezed Bilbo’s leg and reached into his coat pocket for his wallet, but Bilbo touched his arm, stopping him. He motioned towards the man at the piano who had momentarily traded holiday standards for a sadly romantic melody.

_♬Smile, tho’ your heart is aching.  
Smile, even tho’ its breaking...♬_

“I want to hear this first.” Bilbo said, enchanted by the music. It was a song familiar to him, one of his favorites.

_♬When there are clouds in the sky_  
_You’ll get by_  
_If you smile through your fears and sorrow_  
_Smile and maybe tomorrow_  
_You’ll see the sun come shining through_  
_For you...♬_ ♬

They listened to the song while their hands found their way to one another, clasping, warm and secure, glad, after time apart, to be connecting two halves that made one whole. And when the song was over, they clapped, Bilbo offering a hearty, “ _Bravo, maestro!_ ” The pianist stood and bowed for his enthusiastic audience at the bar before resuming his Christmas repertoire. Thorin pulled out his wallet, leaving a generous tip for Ted and another to be delivered to the piano man. And, with drinks and coats in hand, Bilbo and Thorin left the bar and made their way to the elevator and their suite on the 18th floor.

+++

“I hope you like it. It’s really all they had left, on such short notice, this close to Christmas.” Thorin pulled the key-card out of the slot and opened the door. Tapping the lights on, he stepped aside, allowing Bilbo to enter first.

“I’m sure it’s fine, sweetheart. I...” Bilbo stopped, his words evaporating into the air. He took a few more steps into the room, the rubber soles of his duck boots squeaking on the hard-wood flooring, his eyes wide, taking it all in. Wood-paneling painted in a pleasant shade of buttercream, dotted with Elizabethan portraits, covered the walls while windows that overlooked the Boulevard, stretched nearly from the floor to the high ceiling where hung a crystal chandelier. He was standing in an elegant living room attired in Louis XV tables and chairs, feeling as if he had just stepped into a courtier’s apartment at Versailles. He half-expected a footman in wig and livery to come fetch his coat. The wide screen television affixed to the wall was the only thing killing the illusion.

“It’s gorgeous.” He said, pulling his hand-made hat off his head, feeling woefully underdressed, in his usual teaching attire of button-down, sweater vest, and corduroy trousers. He went to the window and looked down at the wintery scene below. He had thought it a mess and a bother when he’d been stuck in it, trying to make his way to Thorin. But now, high above it all, it was quite beautiful.

“I knew you’d like it.” Thorin came from behind and wrapped his arms around his love, whiskers tickling Bilbo’s ear as teeth nibbled. “You should see the bedroom.”

Bilbo cocked his head, closed eyes opening, and turned in Thorin’s arms, his mouth stretched in a hungry grin. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

“Mmmm...” Thorin nodded and followed his curious husband to the adjoining bedroom. It was much like the living room; antique reproductions, high ceiling, wide-screen tv. The bed was a king-sized island of plump down wrapped in fine Egyptian cotton, all snowy-white and tempting. Bilbo laid his hand on the coverlet and pressed down, down, down.

“This was all they had left, you say?” Bilbo laid his coat and satchel down on a damask-upholstered chair, ready to make himself at home.

“Well, they may’ve had some others, but I didn’t want you feeling cooped up in a tiny room all night.”

“I wouldn’t have minded it. I’d sleep in a cave if it meant being with you.” 

“So you say.” Thorin chuckled as he watched Bilbo pull off his boots and wiggle his toes in his thick, woolen socks. “You’re a beautiful liar.”

“Am I now?” Bilbo asked as he padded across the floor towards his husband, appreciating the way Thorin’s custom-tailored trousers hugged his anatomy. His stomach rumbled with hunger.

“You are,” Thorin accepted Bilbo, as he walked in to his arms, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, amongst wayward curls. “And you’re hungry. I can hear your tummy. Here’s the menu. Let me know what you want for dinner and I’ll call it in while you have a soak.”

A hot bath, followed by dinner, Bilbo thought, was one of the best ideas anyone had ever come up with since the beginning of time. He picked up the menu, excited to see what was being offered. It didn’t take him long to make his choice.

“I’ll have the Chicken Florentine with Cavatappi al Pesto and a salad...I’m dying for some salad... with Blue Cheese, extra croutons, no onions. A half-order of garlic bread. And a big bottle of Pellegrino, lime if they have it, but plain is fine.”

“Any dessert?” Thorin asked, writing everything down.

“Will you split a bread pudding with me?”

“Brandy sauce?”

“Of course.”

Thorin added dessert to the list while Bilbo made his way down the short hall to the bathroom, looking forward to submerging his tired self in warm, gently scented water.

+++

When the bathroom’s french doors opened, Bilbo was so relaxed, soaking in lavender scented water, it barely registered in his brain that Thorin was in the room.

“Have you fallen asleep?” Thorin asked, softly.

“Mmmm... maybe.” Bilbo murmured, his eyelids too heavy to open. ”Is dinner here?”

“No. We still have some time before it arrives.”

“Mmmm...kay.” Bilbo yawned, stretching his arms and legs in the large, sunken tub. Sitting up, he opened his eyes. “I suppose falling asleep and drowning would be a bad i...” Turning towards Thorin, he was struck by the realization that he was looking at a pair of bare knees set in the middle of thick, hairy legs. As his gaze crawled slowly up the length of his husband’s naked body, a grin grew on his face, wider with every delicious inch. “Well. Hello there, Mr. Durin.” 

“Room enough for two?” Thorin asked, but Bilbo was already sliding down, and Thorin stepped in, settling himself down in the water, his long legs sliding along either side of his baby who was snuggled in between them. Bilbo laid back, blissfully happy to have that broad chest as a pillow for his bath.

“This is divine.”

“Why don’t we do this more often?” Thorin asked, nuzzling the side of Bilbo’s face, his hands, under the water, gently petting and caressing.

“Spend the night in decadent hotel rooms during a snow storm?” Bilbo purred, near to reaching a state of perfect bliss.

“I was thinking about baths, but you’re right... we could use with more of both.”

“I love the way you think, darling. I’m so glad I married you.” 

Thorin softly nipped at Bilbo’s jaw and neck. “I’m so glad you said yes.”

No more words were said, only those that could be understood through touch. Fingers and hands found all the sensitive places and it wasn’t long at all before Bilbo felt a stirring in the water between his legs. A gentle pressure cupping him, massaging, arousing...

“Thorin...” Bilbo said with a sigh. He couldn’t help moaning as Thorin’s hand slid up, wrapping around his erection. “This isn’t fair. I can’t reach you.”

“Shhh... This is my play time. I just want you to relax, baby. Enjoy it.”

And enjoy it, he did. It soon became apparent to Thorin, however, that the tub offered only a limited access to his husband’s body, and he wanted more.

“I want you on the bed.” He whispered, releasing Bilbo. Carefully they stepped out of the tub and wrapped thick cotton towels around themselves, drying the water from their skin.

+++

“You are divine.” Thorin whispered, placing a random pattern of kisses on the tender skin of Bilbo’s stomach as he worshiped at the temple of his true love’s soul. Bilbo sighed, his fingers finding their way into Thorin's damp hair. His breath stuttered as Thorin kissed his cock with lips...

Once...twice...

Licked...

Teeth, lightly scraping, on the head...

“Thorinnn...” A shiver shook him as he was enveloped with love and care in to his lover’s mouth. He watched beloved lips swallow him, blue eyes meeting his for a second before closing, their owner lost in the sensation of giving pleasure, this intimacy Thorin’s privilege and the source of the pleasure he received in return.

“T h o r i n...I love you.” He moaned, meaning those three little words every bit as much as he had the first time he’d said them. It’d been on their fourth...no...fifth date. The moon had been streaming its silver light through the glass wall of Thorin’s flat, bathing them in what had felt like its blessing. The two of them, laying in that light, naked, emotionally and physically exhausted. Never before had either of them experienced the power of what happened when two people, destined for eternity, came together. Bilbo had lain there, ragged and raw and in utter... _awe_ of the man he’d just made the most breathlessly exquisite love with. There had been tears in his eyes when he’d made his confession.

“I love you.”

He had been pulled in close and held, tears in Thorin’s voice as he’d made his own confession that, at long last, he’d found the one he’d been searching for, to share his life with, and long, long into the night they had stayed like that, afraid to let go, that the other was just a trick of the moon light. It’d been 6 years since that night, 5 since they’d made their vows, and the only thing that had changed was that the mystery of each other had been replaced by knowing and their love had only grown deeper.

“Thorin...I’m...Oh god, it’s so close.” Bilbo dropped his head back on to his pillow and he listened; to his breath (heavy), his moans (quickening), and Thorin’s as they vibrated around his cock. He let it all build up inside him until he couldn’t hold anything in any longer and it rushed out of him. 

This explosion, this joyful release! 

It flowed through him and to Thorin who took it in, all of it, the life essence of his soul’s mate, and swallowed it, down, deep inside himself.

“Kiss me.” Bilbo demanded and received, tasting himself on Thorin’s tongue. “Now it’s my turn.”

“No,” Thorin shook his head before placing a kiss on the tip of Bilbo’s nose. “Lay back. I want you to watch.”

He backed up a little, and, sitting on his knees he took himself in his hand. With his eyes never leaving Bilbo’s, feeding off the hunger and the love he found there, he quickly brought himself to the heights and over the edge. He finished, watching Bilbo slide across the bed to place kisses on his knees and lick up any drops he found.

After cleaning themselves up, Thorin produced the bags containing the pajamas and underwear he’d had Celeste pick up. It was all a perfect fit and they chuckled to see themselves in pajamas that matched in everything but color - blue for Thorin, pale green for Bilbo - painting a picture of themselves as an old, very happily, married couple.

**Knock knock!**

“That would be dinner.” Thorin announced, heading to the closet for the full-length robe that came with the room. Slipping it on, he slid the door to the bedroom closed, leaving Bilbo to finish dressing in private.

The waiter came in, pushing a linen draped cart bearing covered dishes emitting mouthwatering aromas. After laying down a table cloth on the small round table in the living room, he placed the settings. Bilbo stepped out of the bedroom, tying the sash of his robe, as the waiter set the plates in position and lifted the covers, revealing their meals. It all looked so delicious.

After thanking and tipping the waiter, Thorin took his seat and laid his napkin in his lap, eager to dig in to his prime rib. Bilbo, however, stood by his chair.

“What’s wrong, Love?” Thorin asked. “Not hungry?”

“Famished. I...,” Bilbo looked at the food covering the table, wondering if he should just sit down and eat. But... “You’re going to think this is silly.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Can we move this into the bedroom? It’s not properly room service unless we’re eating in bed.”

Thorin chuckled, sticking his silverware in the pocket of his robe. “Of course! You’re right!” he said, shoving his napkin in the opposite pocket and picking up his plate. And, with Bilbo close behind, they moved everything in to the bedroom. Bilbo spread the tablecloth on top of the bed, to spare the bedding from any spills, and they set the plates out.

Carefully, they climbed up on the bed, and settled themselves before their meals, like a posh, in-door picnic. Taking up the remote control from the nightstand, Bilbo turned on the tv, quickly finding a marathon of one of his and Thorin’s favorite movie series, the one about the young wizard and a school for magic.

And they dug in! Bilbo’s chicken was tender and juicy, his pasta cooked to a perfect _al dente_ and Thorin’s prime rib was as succulent as any he’d ever had, his baked potato hot and soft and stuffed with everything good. When they had finished, there was just enough room in their stomachs to share that bread pudding topped with brandy sauce, their forks battling for the last bite.

Yawning, Bilbo and Thorin collected their dishes, depositing them on the table in the living room, leftovers wrapped up in foil and boxes and tucked away in the small fridge. With new toothbrushes in hand, they brushed their teeth, standing side by side at the sink, making faces at each other in the mirror, spitting simultaneously, kissing with fresh, clean mouths. 

After turning out all the lights, they climbed under the covers, finding each other in the wide expanse of the bed. They found each other and they kissed and cuddled, watching the tv until, at last, Thorin, with Bilbo’s head on his chest, heard his gentle, sleeping breaths. Quietly, he switched off the tv. Pulling the covers up over them, Thorin pressed a kiss to his husband’s forehead, and relaxing into the mattress and pillow, he let go his last tethers to consciousness, sleeping long and well into the night until morning.

And outside, the snow fell.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Song Credits:**  
>  _The Christmas Song (1945)_  
>  written by: Bob Wells and Mel Tormé 
> 
> _Smile (1936, 1954)_  
>  music by: Charlie Chaplin (1936)  
> lyrics by: John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons (1954)
> 
> This was inspired by a snow storm that hit Portland, Oregon last December. It closed the freeways, leaving people stuck in the city. On the news, I saw an interview with a man who was staying in one of the downtown hotels and I thought that having to stay in a swanky hotel because one couldn't get home could be terribly romantic. Which lead, naturally, to the lads being holed up in one to weather the storm. The image I used in the summary was taken the night of that storm. ("Crows in Snow" by Walker Berg)
> 
> The room they stay in is based on the [Edwardian Suite](http://www.theplazany.com/rooms-and-suites/the-edwardian-suite/) at the Plaza Hotel in New York City. I've never been, either to the hotel or the city, but it's on my to-do list, even if it's just to have a cocktail in the Rose Club. 
> 
> Happy Holidays!!!


End file.
